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shurisneakers · 3 months

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unsolved (i)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.

A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3

Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.

Apparently.

On God, he cannot fathom why.

He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.

By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.

“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.

“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”

Bucky has the audacity to look offended.

“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused.

He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.

“I don’ care,” he mumbles.

Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”

“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV.

“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”

His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.

“And also you signed the contract.”

Well. Shit.

Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.

Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week.

“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”

The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling.

“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”

Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.

Maya stares at him.

Bucky stares back.

“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”

“No.”

The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.

“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”

“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”

A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive.

“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.

So they stick him in a couple of interviews.

Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.

Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.

He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.

They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.

They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there.

The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks.

They give him access to his Twitter.

He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening.

Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested.

“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening.

It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it.

Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.

He begrudgingly agrees.

Therefore, it begins.

They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions.

Then the jokes really start.

“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution.

Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.

He is not put in another video.

And so he finds himself here.

In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.

Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.

“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”

“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”

Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up.

“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows.

“No.”

For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to.

“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”

Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad.

Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was–

“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”

Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily.

“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”

While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now.

Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.

“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”

He wordlessly shakes his head.

Been the former, seen too much of the latter.

Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”

He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question.

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”

“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”

“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.

“Other people have seen ghosts.”

“Good for other people.”

The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked.

“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”

Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night.

“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”

You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.

“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”

“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly.

“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”

“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.”

“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.

“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”

“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them.

You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.

“Do you know what skinwalkers are?”

“No.”

“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.

Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.

“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”

“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–”

“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum.

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together.

He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it.

You were… loud. And open.

Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium.

Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”

Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.

“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”

Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.

“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”

“Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow.

“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.

“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”

“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates.

“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”

“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head.

“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”

“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”

“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.

Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues.

“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.

Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest.

Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.

“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud.

He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.

“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.

Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?”

“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”

“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”

Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?

Yay.

“One video,” he reiterates.

You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly.

“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table.

Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”

He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Blind Offer 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Lloyd Hansen, and August Walker

Note: I wish this week would be over.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

The checkered fabric beckons you forward. Your fear smothers all doubts. You're in no place to question any of this. What will they do if you don't listen? Who are they? The voice that comes from thin air. Certainly Steve too.

You touch the dress and move it aside to unveil the small lumps beneath. A set of red lace lingerie to match the shade of the checkers. You swallow tightly and pull your hand back. You look at your fingertips as if they've been singed.

You tremble and touch the hem of your shirt. They're watching. You shudder and slowly raise the cotton. You try not to think about what's happening. Just get through it.

You drop your shirt on the bed them quickly push down your sweatpants. You heap them atop the tee and close your eyes as you peel off your underwear. You sniffle as you don the red lingerie and figure out how to tie the little string at the waist of the dress.

Your eye is caught by the shiny red shape at the foot of the bed. A pair of heels. It's not hard to guess you're supposed to put them on.

There's a chime, the same jingle as before. You spin as you search around and tinkles again. It's coming from downstairs. You clamour out into the hall and cling to the banister as you descend. You go back to the kitchen and read the screen.

'Check your phone.'

Your heart leaps. You trip over your toes but keep upright as you run into the front room. You go to your phone but deflate in an instant. There's a video pulled up on it and nothing else. No status bar, no time. What the heck?

A message pops up over the paused video thumbnail, a woman's eye up close. You read the font in the bubble before it disappears.

'Upstairs bathroom. Press play. You'll know what to do.'

You lower the phone. Right. Not cryptic at all. You teeter on your heels before you can gain your balance again. You clop out and to the stairs. You take off the shoes before your climb and keep them in hand as you skirt down to the bathroom.

As you enter, there's a sparkly pink case on the counter. That wasn't there before either. You put the shoes on the tile and lean your phone against the mirror, leaning it just so before you tap play. You twine your fingers through each other as a beaming woman smiles at you from the screen. She welcomes you to her video with her cherry red lips and expertly lined eyes.

"Today, we're going to learn how to get the perfect look!" She chimes and frames her face, "so first, lets go over our tools."

She smiles so big, her cheeks are round, almost twitching as her eyes bulge just slightly. She lifts up a small bottle.

"Let's go over our base..."

She lists off the items, showing each to the camera. You reach to open the case as you listen, revealing a collection of cosmetics. Wow. You keep a few essentials, tinted moisturizer, some mascara, a touch of gloss, but nothing too substantial.

She presses on, going through everything you'll need for eye, lip, and cheek. When she finishes, she smiles even wider and stares. The camera lingers a bit too long and the hollowness in her eyes unsettles you.

"But first, we have to start with a naked face. Let's go!"

She claps her hands in front of her and the shot transitions. Suddenly, her face is barren of makeup. You notice the fatigue under her eyes and the vibrancy missing in her skin. She looks above the lens and her lips quiver. She gives a small nod and clears her throat, as if distracted by someone else.

"Alright, let's begin," her voice creaks at first but she quickly steadies it, "are you ready?"

You feel icky watching the video. You're not ready. This is demented. This cannot be real. It's a horror movie come to life.

"Find your primer," she presents a tube proudly, waiting.

You look down and search for a similar tube. You shake your head as you take it out and look back to the screen. She starts by showing you where exactly to apply the primer. You hesitate. The video on your phone pauses and another message pops up.

'I can wait, doll.'

You inhale and lean in. You focus on the screen and the video skips back ten seconds. You uncap the primer and follow along with the application. The longer you look at the woman, the more you notice. That mark on her neck, a patch darker than the rest of her skin.

She moves on to foundation. The video pauses again as you struggle to find the right bottle and a clean sponge. Then concealer, and some blush, bronzer, and highlighter. You're starting to sweat.

"And that's the base," she preens, tilting her head back and forth to show the effect of her contouring, "isn't that pretty?"

She stops, smiling, staring. The shot cuts again. She pulls her hand away from her chest and bats her lashes.

"N-now," she stutters, "now, we have to do our eyes." She leans closer to the lens and you notice the slightly puffiness in the brims of her eyelids, "remember, we don't want to mess this up. We have some nice waterproof products to make sure we stay perfect, from morning to night." She looks up, above the frame, "we don't want to be crying it all off because we had one bad day, right?

"Now, I'm going to try a nice shade of gold for today's look but you can really be creative. Go wild and choose whatever you like. But nothing too loud, we don't want to scare him away."

She winks at the camera in a theatrical manner. You take out a palette and lower your head. You can't move. You're frozen. This is too much. There's something just off about all of this.

"What kind of Stepford bullshit--"

The video stops. Another pop up. You peek up at it. There's only two big red exes in the bubble. Alright, fine. You open the palette and pick out a brush. The video resumes. You really hope this stuff is waterproof because you're about to have a goddamn breakdown.

You get closer to the mirror as you work on applying the shadow. You go with a subtle caramel and amber combination. You're not very good at it but the instructions are easy enough. Nothing too difficult as long as you keep up.

You finish the eye after fighting the liner. You're starting to get the hang of it. Wait. No. That's not a victory. You don't want this.

Eyebrows. Do you really need to do all this? Right, now lips. You take out the candy apple red and delicate trace the shape of your mouth. Finally, a setting spray that nearly makes you sneeze.

"And that's it. You're all done," the woman announces, "you're ready to--"

The screen cuts. The image of the woman with her makeup smeared covers the screen for a split second then disappears to a credit screen, congratulating you on completing the the look. You gape, stunned, and take a step back. Alright, this is twisted.

The video exits out and you're left only with a blank screen. The next message takes over the expanse; kitchen. You grab the phone and take it with you, swiping up the shoes as you go.

Downstairs, you plop the shoes down and face the Echo as it chimes again. Your next directive is on the screen. A timer that reads 'Dinner, t-minus 2 hours'. You hear the television mounted in the corner flick on and you turn to see the same woman as before.

"Hello. Welcome. It's good to see you." She puts her hands on the counter, staring again. She flinches. "Please, don't make--" The video cuts. "Today!" She points at the camera, "we're going to make a classic; meatloaf."

You walk closer to the screen. There's something wrong with this woman. This isn't Rachel Ray or Martha Stewart. This is horrifying. She pauses, nodding, her smile getting bigger, than falling, and spreading again. It's as if she's glitching.

Another jarring switch. She's by the fridge, speaking intimately as the camera is angled down at her.

"So, let's get our ingredients, ladies," she announces, "now, we can go with lean turkey if we're being mindful or we can go with a classic beef." She reaches inside and takes out a paper packet, "nice and fresh."

The screen pauses on her hands. There's a broken nail among her perfectly manicured hands. You back up and drop your shoulders. You drag your feet to the fridge and pull out the ground beef in the same brownish red paper. The video starts again.

You put the beef on the counter and wait for the next ingredient. One buy one you get everything out. Then you get your tools, bowls, pans, knives. You admire the long silver blade as it slides free of the block.

"It's important," the woman chirps from the screen, "not to play with knives.. you could get hurt."

You look up as she holds up a knife and shakes her head. You frown as she grabs the blade and slides her palms down it, leaving a red sheen on the silver.

"See? Always be safe," she grips the knife by the handle as her blood drips onto the counter. "Lets prepare our veggies first–"

The blip is less than subtle. Her hand is suddenly wrapped in cause thought the drops of blood remain on the cutting board. You put the onion on the wooden surface and dice along with the happy host.

The step-by-step directions keep you occupied enough to ignore the tremor of fear inside you. Your thoughts fade to background as you pull the lid off the breadcrumbs. You work through the recipe mindlessly until you have the meat neatly in the loaf pan.

As you open the oven door, that small voice of logic breaks through. Who are you cooking this for? It's an awful lot of food for just you.

"Now we can work on our sides," the woman sings, "roasted potatoes and charred asparagus."

🖤

You stand before the table. It’s set precisely to the standard set by the woman on the screen. Cutlery, cloth napkins, tall glasses, and a jug of iced lemon water.

The timer counts down and dings. You rush over to hit clear and grab the oven gloves. You take out the pan of meatloaf, then the roast potatoes. You place them carefully on the stove. It smells delicious but your appetite is scant. You’re not very concerned with food at the moment.

You wince as the television flicks on again and the woman holds a spatula and talks to the camera, almost as if she’s talking directly to you.

“Now, it’s time to plate dinner,” she explains, “now I know, it’s just meatloaf, but it doesn’t mean we can’t spruce it up. Let’s begin by slicing the loaf.”

You huff and push your head back. This is a chore. You don’t think you’ve ever put this much effort into a meal.

“We want to make our romantic dinner for two perfect,” she chimes as she sets out two plates, “for our very special someone. The most handsome man…”

She bats her lashes as she gives another tense smile. Forced and frightening. The camera slowly pans in before suddenly pulling back. You blow off the unease and open the cupboard.

You once more follow along with the knock off Julia Child. You get two plates set, the meat placed just so, the potatoes scooped out in delicate measurements, the asparagus lines up neatly. You put each plate on a table mat and take a step back.

So, what next?

Ding dong.

The loud chime makes you jump. You don’t move. You wait and listen until it comes again. The doorbell?

You turn on your heel and pass into the entryway. As you do, the door opens from the other side. Your lips part in shock as Steve steps inside, greeting you with a smile as the security system alerts you to the open door and secures again as he lets it fall shut behind him. You clasp your hands together, questions racing but no words coming.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he smiles, “you look…” his eyes fall to your feet. “Adequate.”

You follow his gaze and curl one foot behind the other. You left the heels off. You suppose that was wrong. Wait, no, this is wrong. What he’s doing is wrong.

“Excuse me?” You scoff.

“Dinner smells good,” he smooths his golden hair.

He wears a crisp white button-up and gray pin-striped slacks. You grimace at him and cross your arms. He comes closer, stopping before you as he reaches to touch your cheek. You wince and lean away from him.

“You shouldn’t scowl. You’ll get wrinkles,” he says.

“Wha– Steve. What is going on?”

He presses his index finger to your lips, “ah ah. I came for dinner. Let’s not chatter and let it get cold.”

You step back and glare at him, “Steve, what are you doing? Please, let me go.”

“Honey, let’s not argue,” he comes close and grabs your upper arms, pulling them apart, “you won’t like how it ends.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Meatloaf,” he turns his head and looks towards the kitchen, “it’s my favourite.”

You’re upended by his sudden change in topic. It’s frustrating how he just ignores you. You want to know why he’s doing this. How can he even think of something like this. He can’t. Someone will come looking for you.

No one knows where you are. You didn’t tell them.

“Don’t keep me waiting, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice as he leans in, “I’ve waited long enough.”

You look up at him, shaken by his tone. You’ve never heard him sound like that. You feel his grip tighten on you.

“Go get your shoes and we’ll sit down and have a nice dinner.”

“Steve,” you croak.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. He smirks and lifts his lashes, blue eyes gleaming like crystals, “don’t you remember what I said. How I like order. How things should be in their place. How everyone has their role.”

You scrunch your nose. You remember. It was weird then, now it’s terrifying.

“Yes,” you rasp, “I remember.”

“You don’t want me to be unhappy, do you?” He challenges, his thumbs rubbing your arms.

You shake your head stiffly, ready to wilt beneath his gaze. “No, I don’t.”

“Good girl,” he slides his hands down your arms and slowly retracts his touch, “so, let’s eat.”

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epitomereally · 6 months

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Celestial Navigation by @sabrecmc

18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.

An absolutely gorgeous story of learning to love yourself, even when you feel like you don't fit in & that you grew up wrong. I'm so happy to have gotten to bind this mammoth work for Sabre & as a gift exchange for @mourningmountainsbindery (who bound me this beautiful copy of Astolat's Let the River Run—JUST LOOK AT THAT COVER!).

Also to anyone who has @ed me lately (looking at u, em @powerful-owl & tacky @tackytigerfic particularly) & I've been derelict in responding, here is WHY.

This has been the longest binding project I've undertaken, both in page count and in time. My original message to Sabre was on March 16th—can't decide if I want to use the laughing or crying emoji here—and the colophon says I made the book in April 2023 (which was when I started typesetting, maybe). I had been randomly perusing dying videos on Youtube in bed on a Saturday morning, as one does, and came across a video showing how to spiral tie-dye. I IMMEDIATELY had a design premonition of the full design for this fic as a two-volume set, planted into my brain wholesale by the binding gods. I learned many new techniques throughout the process (edge painting, edge trimming/sanding, tie-dying/dyepainting, embroidery, typesetting meta from tumblr which copy-pastes with the worst goddamn formatting in the world, kill me now). Overall, alternately extremely painful & wonderful, and I'm extremely proud of this set.

Design-wise, I went whole-hog with the scifi stars theme. Endpapers are recolored versions of the star charts from the Apollo 11 mission:

Title page & chapter titles are both rips in the galaxy:

Epigraphs both star-themed:

Some more glamor shots because I'm so proud 💕

8.6 lbs // 3.8 kgs worth of books (~3000 total pages) 🥰

Celestial Navigation is also INCREDIBLY popular, and Sabre has been incredibly generous answering asks on her tumblr + writing additional one-shots in the universe. There is also a veritable volume of fanart. I was so inspired by seeing @robins-egg-bindery copy of ********, with its appendix of fanart & meta, that I promptly copied them.

fanart redacted because lots of the artists are no longer active on tumblr but just know i am ECSTATIC about the amount of art in these books

Lastly, I love how @clovenhoofbindery includes their 'Illustrator mess' with their bind posts, as a behind-the-scenes look into the wild process of designing these books. I don't actually have an Illustrator mess for this book (the chapter titles & title page pretty much came in one take), but I do have a DYING MESS. It took me sososo many tries to figure out how to get the dye to look how I imagined in my head. I ended up 'dye painting' instead of tie-dying in the end, but my inbox is always open to chat hand-dying/tie-dying/dyepainting (or what I did differently between any of these attempts). Numbers are the dying attempt.

Last process shot: I hand-dyed variegated linen thread to match the colors of the bind, which ends up being incredibly difficult to see on the finished bind, but was super fun while I was sewing!

Materials:

Body font: Kepler

Title font: Compaq 1982

Chapter number font: aliens & cows

Endpapers: recolored versions of the star chart used by Michael Collins during the Apollo 11 mission (archived at The Smithsonian)

Bookcloth: dyed using Dharma Trading Procion Fiber-Reactive Dyes

Title page and chapter headers: designed in Photoshop using the Ultimate Space brush pack by jeffrettalyn on DeviantArt

Metallic embroidery thread: Cosmo Nishikiito thread

I would dye for this embroidery thread. It is LIGHT YEARS better than the classic metallic embroidery thread from DMC: much easier to work with & much more sparkly. Literally so eye-catching; it truly doesn't translate to photos.

Paint for edges: Daniel Smith watercolor tubes in Iridescent Sunstone and Prussian Blue

Note: these are GORGEOUS watercolors. The color is so saturated and strong and beautiful BUT I don't think I'd recommend watercolors for edge painting. They went on very differently depending on the grit of the sandpaper I used for the edges + they sometimes bled into the pages + they had to be set with fixative, which then stuck the pages together.

#blood sweat and TEARS into this bind #and now it is DONE my god #stony #stony fanart #celestial navigation #my fanbinding #posts i actually wrote

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granatkoroleva · 5 months

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𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

This is a collaboration for @buckybarnesevents Shrinkyclinks 2023 Double Bang! The artist created a beautiful piece that inspired this fic. Their art is truly breathtaking and brought the story to life. Thank you for the inspiration!

Artist: @murkycrush

Author: Smutconnoisseur

Beta: @rookthorne

Character/Ship: Grad Student!Bucky Barnes x Incubus!Steve Rogers

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: “What the fuck,” Bucky muttered, watching the living, breathing creature that had appeared from seemingly nothing, and then back to the article on his computer, its title screaming at him in big, bold gothic font: "Summoning a Demon For Dummies 101: What to Do When Things Go Wrong (Or Right)."

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Supernatural Elements, Grad Student Bucky Barnes, Incubus Steve Rogers, Shrinkyclinks | Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes/Non-Serum Steve Rogers, Explicit Content, Master/Pet, Seduction, Demon Summoning, Wing Kink, Tail Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Tail Felatio, Lust at First Sight, Horn Stimulation, Biting, Blood Play, Begging, Tenderness

Masterlist | Ao3

#shrinkyclinksdoublebang2023 #stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve x bucky #stevebucky #shrinkyclinks #incubus #look at this art #shrinkyclinks art

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samlacy · 11 months

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love me, touch me (be the first who ever did)

contains: size difference, short steve rogers (5'5/167), tall reader (6'2/187), call boy steve (🛐), inexperienced reader, hurt reader :((, reader fell first and steve fell harder, jacking off, wrong number oops, little awkward, lowkey innocent reader idk, sex pro steve

REMEMBER THIS IS ONLY PART 1 OF THIS STORY! I might write part 2, I'm not sure though..

this font --- italic is for stuff that happend in the past!

I read over it, but might be that there are still mistakes..

words : 2k

☆☆☆

You don’t like yourself very much, not hate, but also not love. Your looks had no problem pretty much, you were slightly muscular, had a good style, hell even looked good in a suit! Your hair was wavy, a grown out two block cut. Plus you don't wear spectacles, except for reading. The only thing that made you miserable in your dating life was,

you were really hopeless.

Which dude would be nervous and blush everytime over some small stuff! No wonder your presentations were so poorly done in your work life or the way you wouldn't refuse to take shots when asked. Even though you promised yourself you won't drink.

As soon as you got home from the drinking with your work colleagues, you stumbled when you tried to take your shoes off inside your house as soon as you locked the door. Face first you landed on the wooden floor, no more energy to atleast loosen up your tie or to even stand up.

Well, atleast you were good in one single thing in your miserable life,

drinking yourself full into oblivion.

Your eyes focused into blankspace. Thoughts flashed into your brain. Here you go again.

"I'm sorry, I'm.. so..", you sob out as you looked down on your knees. Arm on your sides as you don't even dare to look up once.

Silence for a while, the rejection surely floated in the air already. God how useless were you?

"You.. you can't do it?", the feminine voice spoke out loud enough for it to hit you straight through your brain and heart.

The woman left a sigh as she spoke up again "At this point, it makes sense. Whenever I want something, you are so kind and do it. It's like you are submissive. I wonder if you are just going along with what I say." tears were so close to spill, why you? "You always turn so red and flustered. You are shockingly unreliable."

'Don't cry, come on. Don't cry you hopeless shit.' Ever since your miserable first time, you are scared shitless of ever doing it again. Your looks might be great, but your body felt so.. big. This all happend right where she told you she loved you, too. Life sucks.

The constant imaginations of being less hopeless were so pleasing. Just why were you like this? Who the fuck did you insult in your past life that you turned out like this? The feeling of not being good for anything because of how hopeless you were, was utterly sickening.

'nineth floor.' the voice in the elevator said as the doors opened. Someone with black sneakers, grey joggers with a plain black t shirt on stepped out as he was talking on the phone. A leather jacket hugged them loosely while he looked at the door numbers. Eyes focused on the doors, as his mouth kept on talking.

"Uh yeah, if the guy from yesterday asks for me, just say I'm busy at the moment", he stated as he stood suddenly in front of a door. Turning towards it as he read the number under his breath 'one, two and seven.'

"Okay, I'm here. I will call you soon, bye!" the call ended with a click as steve brushed his hair back one more time, put the phone in the pocket. The door was luckily open, so he pressed down the handel and opened it.

Surely, he didn't except this view. You were laying down on the floor, face down, suit all wrinkled and hair kinda messy. The concerned face on Steve's face was mixed with huge confusion.

"Are you sleeping?" he asked as he ran up to you, slamming the door behind. He dropped on his knees and rubbed your back, "Dude, are you okay?"

The response were little sounds of whines leaving your mouth. The tears and alcohol made you not wanna be bothered and close your eyes tightly. You were somehow half asleep.

'Hah. Cute.' he thought to himself as he smirked and caressed your face with a hand. Your cheeks were burning and your body was hot as hell! Shocking for a time like winter.

"Get up, you will catch a cold if you sleep here on the floor, silly", he warned with a smile. You couldn't see that sweet smile as you were still not aware of the world around you with your eyes closed.

Not with a lot patience, he lifted you halfway up and leaned your back on the wall while you were still sitting. He took your backpack off and you finally twitched your eyes under his touch. He huffed when you still didn't wake up!

One shake on your shoulder made you open your eyes slightly, till they were halfway open. Unironically you looked around and looked back at the guy in front of you, "Where.. where am I?"

The cold hand hit your hot cheek again. Fuck, why did it felt so nice and safe. As if he would hold you between his arms forever. Your view was hazy as you saw a, of course blurry face approach you closer, and closer.

Now not only a cold feeling was on your burning cheeks, but also on your lips. A kiss was planted on your lips, your body felt like levitating right there. "Wakey wakey!" the adorable voice spoke again, and now everything was clear. Your eyes shot up open fully as you broke the kiss by gasping.

"Who.. Who are you?" you squeaked as you pushed yourself more onto the wall. The guy stared in confusion as he pouted slightly. He brushes his hair back and talks again "You literally booked me?"

Silence.

"I'm your call boy! My name is Steve rogers, just call me steve", he clarified with a big smile spreading ear to ear. His eyes were closed from the smile.

This all is so confusing right now. You don't remember this at all? You look to your side and see your phone laying. Did you really call him earlier?

"I'm s-sorry.. I do not remember..!" you confess as you tried to pull away more, but steve had a grip on your jaw as he kissed you once again "It's okay.." he nibbled on your neck, licking and swirling on it. Suddenly he grabbed your erection with the hand that holded your jaw earlier.

"Don't you want me to make you feel good?", he asked it so innocently, that it felt like it was normal to just say that! You blushed even more, stuttering mode was on. The tomatoes were sure jealous of your redness.

He grabbed it again and cood at how it twitched as it was painfully rubbinf against the fabric of your boxers and jeans. He was so weirdly focused on you.

"I'm sorry.." you apologize with your shakey voice. He looked up to you as he tilted his head. "Why are you apologizing? I infact like the way you got hard from me being myself."

You whimpered at the touch. He started unbuckling your jeans as you gripped his upper arms tightly. You were so nervous and shocked by the sudden moves you couldn't do anything except whine and hold yourself steady by his arms. He pulled your hardened cock out of your underwear and started jacking you off. You gasp as you stab your nails through his leather jacket.

"I can't! Im s-sorry..", you gasp it out as tears started prickling up in your eyes. The moves didn't stop, he kept on going while focusing on your face. 'He is so red.. It's cute' Steve thought to himself, now his eyes moved to your cock, as he realized you were close by your fast breathing, he started covering the tip with his thumb.

You let out a loud 'Ah!' sound as you tilt your head back and let out big breaths, your body was shaking from the Stimulation going on.

"You have a thing for pain, don't you?" Steve asked teasingly as his hand left it and moved to your thigh, just caressing it as he looked into your eyes.

You were still in a shocked space as you stuttered and stumbled over your lines. He had a weird suspicion in him. You were different from his other client's, you were way more inexperienced and easily flustered. Which he found totally adorable.

"Oh, darling. You deserve to feel even better than this", his hands brushed against your cheek again as he played with your bottom lip using his thumb.

Those words were so.. warm. Way warmer than his hands being so cold. It made you rethink about your ex girlfriend.

"You can't do it?"

That sentence filled up your brain, the voice didn't stop repeating it. It was getting louder, louder and louder. How can anyone be so calm about this? It started from there on. Pants were leaving your mouth, eyes turned red as the tears started to spill. One by one. They didn't stop, they kept on going.

Steve looked you up and down, he then realized you started to cry. Of course, he got scared that he did something wrong! He immediatly started wiping them away with his hand as he started asking why you were crying and if he did something wrong.

"No! No, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just that..", you took a deep breath as you spoke again "I'm so not used of someone being so nice to me, I always felt miserable. I'm just so hopeless, I was never good in sex. My girlfriend even got sick of it, I never know what to do while it. I get too overwhelmed."

You calmed down a little after you let that off your chest, it felt too good. Until a guilt hit you. Just now, you totally burdend yourself to a person you just met.

Instead Steve started hugging you tightly, "I understand, just because you suck in it doesn't mean I will leave. I will help you all the way through this."

You let yourself deep into the hug. He caressed your back a little before he snuggled into your neck and started saying something.

"What I find weird is, you struggle with sex, but wanted to bottom? You know I specialize in topping."

"B-bottom??"

"Yeah, bottom. It means when you receive it, the cock."

"..WHAT? First of all.. I didn't c-call you!"

Steve looked just as shocked as you this moment, he said he thought you just forgot because you were drunk. He quickly snatched his phone out as he looked through the adress.

"This is room 127 of southstar apartment right?" you nodded as he kept on looking, but it popped in his head as he looked at it in horror.

"Which Building is this..?"

"U-uh.. Building B."

"I'M SO SORRY!" he apologized dearly as he took your hand and squeezed it hard enough. His head was tilted down as he looked ashamed.

You quickly accepted his apology as you explained how you also thought you called him since you were pretty insecure.

"It was ... good anyway", you blushed as you looked up to the now standing steve. He smiled as he looked at the time, clearly needing to go to his client's house now.

"Sorry for today, I will take you out some time. We could talk about your sex problems then, huh."

"O-oh yeah uh.."

'He is so awkward, but it's cute.' steve thought to himself.

"After all I'm a sex pro!"

'Woah.. sex pro! This guy is insane' you got oddly fascinated by that as you just looked up to him and nodded.

You immediatly pulled your phone out to get his number, which you succesfully achieved. And meanwhile you knew his name, not like you didn't before, just on your phone now!

You waved goodbye as he left through your door to the elevator. You closed the door behind as you sighed and ruffled your hair.

He was so handsome.

"So cute", steve whispered to the air as he smiled at the number on his phone.

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carsonian · 4 months

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Carsonian's 2023 SteveTony Fics [Masterpost]

In 2023, I wrote a total of 244,222 words spread across 32 fics. That's uhh a lot.

Open the envelope below for a comprehensive fics recap.

[NO FICS IN JANUARY]

FEBRUARY

"No Return, No Return" | 18,231 words | T | 5 Feb

In many ways, Tony Stark has spent his whole life waiting to meet something real enough to test himself against. He hadn't planned on it being Steve Rogers. (A re-imagining of Steve and Tony pre-/post-Avengers (2012) with a spotlight on their relationship.)

"Who's Gonna Love You, Baby?" | 1,814 words | M | 13 Feb

"It's Valentine's Day today." Steve says, hand fanning out in a stilted, explanatory gesture to a storefront decorated with bouquets of red and pink flowers. A glossy "Happy Valentine's Day" is sprawled in an elegant font across the window. "...Yeah? Didn't you—" Tony looks Steve over, "Oh. You didn't know." (Steve forgets about Valentine's Day. Tony reassures him that there's still plenty of time to celebrate.)

"A Wish Your Heart Makes" | 2,041 words | M | 22 Feb

The absolute last thing Steve's expecting is Tony Stark, and so it's fairly in character for the man to be standing on the other side of the door. "Hi." Tony looks impatient, greeting barely out before he's walking past Steve and into the apartment.

MARCH

"Fed Love From A Spoon" | 1,319 words | M | 4 Mar

Steve wakes up slowly. (Or, The accidental moments that move a relationship further, make its foundations stronger.)

"Since We've Been Together" | 1,788 words | T | 13 Mar

"Marry me." On his life, he couldn't tell how the words came out. Whether they were loving or demanding or whispered. He only knew that once they left his lips, the following breath came as easy as his first one right after receiving the serum. (Steve proposes to Tony, right after a battle.)

"Never Let You See (Baby, What You Mean To Me)" | 12,881 words | M | 15 Mar

Steve Rogers' life was the kind of romantic comedy that most people would find themselves cringing out of watching after the first twenty minutes. (A.K.A. the summer camp fic where Steve is a pining mess, Tony is an unrepentant brat, and there's a game of prison break to be won.)

"We Tell You, There's No Substitute!" | 2,911 words | T | 19 Mar

Steve pulled the door open. "I didn't know where else to go." Tony said brokenly. Steve promptly shut the door.

[NO FICS IN APRIL & MAY]

JUNE

“Ain’t It A Shame, Too Bad?” | 4,505 words | G | 8 Jun

On his twenty-fourth birthday, Tony was saved from drowning by a man he has yet to find. In other news, Tony’s fallen hard for the mute, scrawny blond that washed up on his kingdom’s shoreline two-and-a-half days ago. These two things can’t possibly be related, can they? (Spoiler(s): They’re related.)

“One Final Surprise” | 1,588 words | G | 18 Jun

Tony accidentally calls Steve from the flip-phone after his wedding gets called off.

“Take Two: It Takes Two” | 1,234 words | G | 18 Jun

Steve and Tony navigate the ups and downs of their first date. (Post-Endgame!AU)

“Forgive The Winters, Keep No Records” | 8,833 words | T | 18 Jun

Tony recovers from his twenty-three days in space. Guess who volunteers to help him through it?

“You Can Never Get Enough (Enough Of This Stuff)” | 3,554 words | G | 25 Jun

“No effing way.” Tony deadpans. “Tony!” Steve wheels around, arms thrown out in splendiferous delight, “Hey, everybody, it’s Tony!” (A.K.A. Steve gets drunk off Asgardian liquor and broadcasts his feelings towards Tony in the most ridiculous manner. This is incredibly confusing for Tony.)

JULY

“Sees You The Same As Before” | 2,886 words | T | 3 Jul

Tony’s been dating Steve for five months and thinks he’s got their relationship totally worked out when Steve starts bringing up random moments from their past. Tony has a very normal reaction to it. For the prompt fill: things you said after we fell in love

“Such A Feelin’ That My Love (I Can’t Hide)” | 2,765 words | G | 5 Jul

Steve’s birthday wish is to go on a date with Tony. He has to win him over first. For the prompt fill: AvAc Steve’s birthday

“Be Their Own Star Witness” | 9,017 words | M | 14 Jul

Leading up to their wedding, Steve and Tony make a pact not to start any arguments with each other. This is a problem. Tony finds a unique solution, and Steve reaps the benefits. For the prompt fill: things you said when you thought I was asleep.

“Transcendental Blues” | 1,177 words | G | 17 Jul

The best place to be after an argument with your partner is in the collapsed ruins of a building. Having said partner as your only company and being mortally wounded is an especial bonus. For the prompt fill: trapped together while one of them is injured

AUGUST

“I Can See Clearly Now The Blindfold’s Gone” | 3,577 Words | M | 1 Aug

“Then, without further ado, I’d like to offer my sincere congratulations to the two of you for winning the all-expenses paid date.” “What?” Steve straightens. “Pass.” Tony says at the same moment. (A.K.A. Modern, No Powers AU where Steve and Tony go on everyone’s favourite internet shitshow, “The Button”.) For the prompt fill: blind date au

“Just Wanna Feel Your Touch (When It’s Cold)” | 1,339 words | M | 16 Aug

Steve’s got a press conference to deal with but he’s more worried about Tony’s cold hands. Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: “Rescue Me”

“'Cause It’s You and Me (and All of the People)” | 8,945 words | T | 19 Aug

Steve and Tony discover that they’re soulmates in their senior year of high school. As they wrestle with this realisation and try to build out a genuine relationship in the backdrop of high school nonsense and college admissions stress, they’re met with a ridiculous number of hurdles in the form of every friend in their circle recruiting them as “fake dates”. (A.K.A. the high school soulmates AU where they keep getting pulled into fake dating schemes for other people, told in a chatlog / texting format) Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: “WTF”

“We Just Keep Going” | 1,829 words | M | 23 Aug

A coda to “Here I Am & Here You Are” where Steve and Tony go and visit the Chip 'n Dale duo in New Orleans. (A.K.A. Established relationship, banter-y nonsense.)

“Must Admit I’m Out of Bright” | 2,606 words | T | 25 Aug

Steve’s got a handful of bullets in his abdomen and Stark’s looking at him all funny. Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: “Pain”

SEPTEMBER

“The Remarkable People Initiative & The Zugzwang Dilemma” | 64,297 words | E | 6 Apr-1 Sep

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark first met as promising candidates of The Remarkable People Initiative when they were children. Twenty-four years later, Tony shows up at Steve’s doorstep. (The Mysterious Benedict Society AU.)

OCTOBER

“Only Natural to Harden Up” | 33,575 | E | 19 Sep-5 Oct

As they’re settling into their new relationship, Steve opens up to Tony about a fantasy he’s long had of Tony in lingerie. This awakens some new insecurities in Tony, and he’s left weighing how to indulge Steve’s interest without ruining their hard-earned intimacy. (Post-Endgame, Everyone-Lives-AU; established but developing relationship.)

“Stupid Mouth Shut” | 16,473 words | T | 13-29 Oct

Tony invites Steve out for a coffee, and during their conversation, Steve starts to suspect that Tony’s going to confess that he has feelings for him. This freaks Steve out, seeing as he’s never even thought of Tony in that way, and is now going to have to reject him, possibly ruining their friendship forever. But when Tony confesses that he’s got feelings for Thor, Steve’s surprised to find that instead of being relieved, he’s actually kind of… disappointed? For the prompt fill: accidental love confession and jealous Steve Rogers

“In Love with a Strict Machine” | 12,809 words | M | 31 Oct

After an honourable discharge from the War, Steve is relocated to a suburban neighbourhood where he stands out as the only Monster around. Soon after, T0ny, a Cyborg he knew briefly during the War, moves in next door. Steve’s long carried a hidden flame for the man, and decides to take their paths reconnecting as a sign to finally make a move. (A.K.A. the Halloween fic where Steve is Frankenstein’s monster, Tony is a cyborg, and they are pathologically drawn to each other.)

NOVEMBER

“Got So Much Honey, the Bees Envy Me” | 1,891 words | G | 4 Nov

Tony takes a hit in a battle, and comes out of his surgery a little confused. Thankfully, his husband, Steve, is there to talk him through it.

“Just About Starving Tonight” | 3,080 words | M | 14 Nov

Tony is just trying to get through an evening of courting and dancing when Steve, the new Alpha in town, approaches him for a dance. Tony tries to turn him down, thinking the Alpha’s mistaken him for an Omega, but is taken aback when Steve assures him that Tony’s exactly who we wants to dance with. (A.K.A. a non-traditional A/B/O meet-cute.)

“The More Things Seem to Change” | 2,123 words | T | 16 Nov

The prince comes to their base in the twilight hours of the night, asking to talk to Steve. Bucky already knows where this is going to lead. (A.K.A. Medieval-cyberpunk fusion AU where Tony is a prince, Steve is a gang leader, and they used to date.) Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: “Historical”

“The More They Stay the Same” | 1,088 words | G | 21 Nov

Bucky was meant to take Tony back to the station twenty-five minutes back. (A.K.A. Medieval-cyberpunk fusion AU where Tony is a prince, Steve is a gang leader, and they’re dating.)

“Hyperballad” | 2,339 words | T | 29 Nov

Steve’s going through something. Tony tries to talk to him about it. (A.K.A. Established relationship, Depressed!Steve Rogers, Recovering Alcoholic!Tony Stark, and a decent amount of emotional hurt/comfort)

DECEMBER

"I'm Jealous of Your Neck (It Gets to Hold Your Head)" | 5,789 words | E | 6 Dec

Steve's going through a rut fever. His vampire roommate, Tony, is very worried about him. (A.K.A. "oh my God they were roommates" ft. werewolf!Steve and vampire!Tony.) Stony Bingo 2023 Round 2: "KINK: Multiple Orgasms"

+ one more fic from the 2023 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange. Will reblog with the addition once reveals go public.

#my fics #my writing #fics masterpost #stevetony fics #stevetony #ok to reblog!

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